The following “Haiku from Index Cards” all begin with “un”—and hopefully haven’t come undone.
unlit fireplace—
the tapping of rain
echoes down the flue
(written 2013, published 2016)
unmowed field—
prairie flowers
mark the end zone
(written 2002, published 2017)
unpacked box
on the kitchen table—
foreign headlines
(written 2013, published 2017)
unpacking boxes—
a broken picture frame
of our first date
(written 2003, published 2006)
unpaid bills—
Indian plum sprouts
from yellow to green
(written 2003, published 2008)
unsold pumpkins—
straw from the store display
trails out the door
(written 2010, published 2016)
unused symphony ticket—
the price
when she was a girl
(written 2013, published 2016; also published with a Chinese translation)
unshaved—
the eye of my webcam
keeps staring at me
(written 2007, published 2018; see “August Postcard Poetry Fest”)